FanFicFeb
by KoolStoryBro13
Summary: A series of completely unrelated one-shots of varying lengths, characters, pairings, ratings, and genres all taking part in the HP universe. ***UPDATE 10/2017: Chapters have been edited and there is a bonus chapter that I had intended to include, but didn't finish in time! Enjoy!
1. 1: SB,RL,PP,JP, LE

**Chapter** : I

 **Word Count** : 3536

 **Characters** : SB, RL, PP, JP, LE

 **A/N** : I moved this one to Chapter One during my edits because I really enjoyed going back and reading it. Enjoy!

* * *

 _Monday October 18th, 1976_

Lily groaned as she woke to the sounds of shuffling in the dorm room beyond her curtains. She tried to turn over and go back to sleep, but a quick use of the _tempus_ spell revealed that if she didn't get up now, there would be no time to shower before breakfast. She brushed past her fellow dormmates into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. (Anecdote: "Morning Lily" was a term used by her dormmates in hushed tones in reference to the terrifying beast that rose every day from Lily's bed. The ferocious creature was usually replaced by a sweet, docile girl after a nice hot shower or cup of coffee. If one encounters a "Morning Lily" in the wild, it is best to give the being a wide berth and not speak to it until this transformation has taken place. It's a pity no one ever warned James about this until they moved in together... But that's a tale for another time).

After showering and dressing in the usual school uniform and feeling much more human, she returned to the dorm to find her best friend, Mary, to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Throughout the castle, students from every house followed a similar morning routine with minor variations. Barring the students that overslept, the entire school filled the Great Hall for a full English breakfast under the ceiling enchanted to reflect the crisp, clear autumn day outside.

If four of the students in Gryffindor seemed slightly more agitated than usual, no one else took notice. Everyone around them was too busy trying to cram breakfast foods into their faces before morning classes commenced.

* * *

Sirius Black had a serious (no pun intended) leg-jiggling problem. His friend James studied him for an entire day once and noted that his leg literally never stopped moving. When he was calm or bored, the jiggling was at a lazy, relaxed pace. When he became agitated, though, the leg bounced up and down hard enough to shake a table. The morning of October 18th found Sirius with BOTH legs bouncing so dramatically that the silverware all along the Gryffindor table was rattling slightly and the scrambled eggs in front of him seemed to be hopping right off his plate.

"Sirius, I swear to god mate, if you don't stop bouncing your legs this instant I'll curse them off at the knees!" James exclaimed. It bears mentioning that this particular bad habit of the eldest Black child was James' biggest pet peeve. Sirius made a conscious effort to quell the jiggling, but only managed to reduce the shaking from an 8 on the Richter scale down to a 5.

"I can't help it, I'm nervous! When d'you think it'll happen?" Sirius asked (I shouldn't need to warn you to batten down the hatches when one of the most infamous pranksters at the school is _nervous_ ).

"Well, we never tested the stuff, so it might not happen at all," James placated his friend.

"I told you both that this was a terrible idea! What if the potion has some sort of side effect? People could get hurt." Remus spoke up from the other side of the table. He was mopping up some of Peter's pumpkin juice which had spilled during Earthquake Black.

"Pish posh- it's practically harmless! We followed the instructions in the book perfectly!" James said waving his hands about.

"The book that you found in the restricted section," Remus said slowly.

"Yes."

"That was written in an archaic dialect of Old English that you needed help translating."

"Yep, that's the one!" Stated James happily. Clearly, he saw no issue in the matter.

"What's the potion supposed to do again?" asked Peter, finally done mourning the loss of his juice.

"Assuming you poured it in the proper goblets in the kitchens last night-" started James.

"A huge assumption," Sirius interjected.

"Right, astronomical, really. But assuming you did, everyone at the Slytherin table will receive a temporary gender reassignment, lasting 24 hours at the most!" James explained.

"Sailing past the part where I lecture you on what a stupid plan it is and how much trouble you'll be in if you're caught, why did you have to go and make Peter complicit in your plot? You could have easily left him out of it," Remus asked, clearly exasperated.

"Well, the plan was actually to do it ourselves," Sirius began.

"We would have preferred that actually, no offense Peter, but we were otherwise occupied last night. Double date with our darling Head of House and some trophies that needed polishing. We simply couldn't bear to pull ourselves away, but Peter saved us and took one for the team! Snuck right down to the kitchens all by himself and poured the potion into the goblets of each of the Slytherin students. It was quite brave of you, Wormtail!" James said. Peter began to cough and splutter and turned red in the face.

"You shouldn't have done it, you'll be in massive trouble," warned Remus.

"Um, guys?" Peter squeaked.

"Not now, Peter," James said before turning back to Remus. "We figured there is, in fact, a 50% chance that Dumbledore will love the idea and grant us each 100 house points for daring, excellent brewing technique, and panache."

"Guys." Peter said more firmly. The other boys ignored him.

"I'm pretty sure there are no house points given for 'panache.'" Remus stated.

"Guys!" Peter yelled.

"Learn to wait your turn, Peter!" Sirius exclaimed. "In response to you, Remus, I think we can all agree that our headmaster is all about the panache."

Finally frustrated to the point of outburst, Peter leapt to his feet (though it didn't result in a noticeable height difference) and wailed in a voice much higher than his own, "I PUT THE POTION IN ALL THE GOBLETS!"

Silence reigned in the surrounding area as people stopped eating and stared at the boy, who was quite obviously raving mad. James, Sirius, and Remus grasped the severity of the situation, but were too flummoxed to reprimand the boy. Before any of them could regain the ability to think coherently or speak real, human words, the boy began to change before their eyes. He grew remained the same height, but his skin began to bubble as weight redistributed to his chest and caboose regions. His hair lengthened slightly and before anyone could register what was happening, a female Peter stood in his place.

The Great Hall fell deadly silent, then burst into chaos as throughout the hall, students began switching genders. Even the faculty were not spared in the culling. If you ever thought you wanted to see a female version of Horace Slughorn, I can assure you that you are wrong, and you should feel bad. The only ones who escaped from the debacle was Aaron Aaronson, a small first year Hufflepuff who was allergic to pumpkin juice, as well as a handful of students who, when questioned later, stated they just didn't like the taste of the beverage and had chosen to drink water instead.

The entire student population was in an uproar until Dumbledore stood at his- er, her- podium and roared with the help of a _sonorous_ charm, "SILENCE!" And silence fell, just like magic. "Now, then. It appears we have suffered the effects of a transfiguratory potion. Until the causes can be identified and an antidote prepared, we will be continuing with classes as usual," he (she?) said, holding a hand out to silence the resultant protests. "Some ground rules for the time being- If I hear of any untoward or inappropriate behavior, the culpable student will be punished. Severely. There will be zero tolerance on this matter. That is all, please make your way to morning classes." Perhaps the oddest part of the entire speech was that the headmaster did not appear to lose any facial hair in the transition to the opposite sex.

The pupils all tried to rush the door at once. Several would attempt to skive off classes, which, to my way of thinking, is a very reasonable response to having bits where there weren't bits before. Others, mostly the formerly female population, were probably rushing off to the dormitories to change into something a little less, well, drafty.

The marauders hung back towards the rear of the stampede discussing the latest developments.

"Pete, everyone's going to know it's us," James whisper-shouted. "You basically stood up and declared it right before turning into a chick!"

"We'll be in detention for the rest of the year," Peter wailed.

"If you're not expelled," Remus chimed in helpfully. This set Peter off and he dissolved into a hiccup-y, blubbery mess.

"Relax, mates! You're missing the entire point!"

"And what might that be, Padfoot?" James asked, rising to the bait.

"We get to spend _all day_ inside of a woman!" Sirius exclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Sirius had transformed into a predictably attractive brunette with striking grey eyes framed by thick lashes.

"Dude…" said James, tilting his head slightly. "You do make a damn hot chick… If it weren't for Lily… LILY! I wonder how she's doing! I have to go find her and coach her through the difficulty of being a man!" he shouted before taking off, pushing others aside with his new, fairly-muscular, if slightly more curvaceous, frame.

"He is right," Remus teased, "You do make a cute girl. It's really an improvement, maybe we should keep you this way!"

Sirius just tossed his long dark brown hair over his shoulder at the bookish girl and stomped off with a huff. Remus was stuck with a still-hiccupping Peter. Fantastic.

* * *

Back at the Gryffindor common room, the students were faced with a new, infuriating problem. Or half of them were, anyway. The females could no longer climb their own staircase to access their rooms. This ancient potion seemed to fool the gender detection charm on the stairs that turned them into a slide when a boy tried to access the girl's tower.

When James arrived in the room, he came face to face with an irate ginger man with impressive sideburns and a five o'clock shadow sprouting around the jaw.

"Did you do this, James Potter?" the man yelled into his face.

"Lily! Lily, you're a lumberjack!" he cried. "You're the most beautiful lumberjack I've ever-" It was at that point that James Potter, the curvy brunette, took a lumberjack-sized fist to the face, thus rendering her unconscious for the next five minutes.

Eventually, the girls convinced some of the more trustworthy guys to scamper up to grab belongings. The process was long and complicated, however, causing most of the Gryffindors to arrive late to first period. Luckily, a similar scenario was playing out in the other common rooms simultaneously.

The Marauders had Charms first. Peter, Remus, and Sirius had walked directly there from breakfast, while James drifted in thirty minutes late with a large purple bruise blossoming on his jaw. Flitwick had given them all name tags so he could keep them straight in their new, unrecognizable forms. James' friends seated themselves in front of James to block him from the red-headed man sporting a 'Lily' name tag glaring at him from down the aisle.

Flitwick found it impossible to corral the class into any real learning. Every time he started to squeak out instructions, the whole class dissolved into laughter at his high-pitched voice. He eventually gave up and let them have free reign to practice all the charms they had learned up to that point in the year. This gave the boys more time to talk amongst themselves.

"James, what happened to you?" Remus asked.

"Yeah, looks like you went a round with Hagrid and lost. Badly." Sirius drawled, absent-mindedly wrapping his new long hair around his finger. Peter, having overcome his earlier panic, started cackling in laughter at the idea of a female version of Hagrid.

"It was Lily, if you must know," James sniffed.

"What did you do this time?" Remus asked. Merlin knew James didn't need special circumstances to piss Lily off.

"I'm not sure. I don't know if she's mad at me because she thinks we're behind this prank or because I called her a lumberjack," he explained. This sent Sirius into a fit of barking laughter which set Peter off again. Remus tilted his head speculatively at the ginger.

"She _is_ especially masculine," he said slowly.

"Well I told her she was the most beautiful lumberjack I'd ever seen, but she didn't seem to appreciate it," James replied dejectedly. Remus patted his shoulder slowly.

"There, there. I'm sure you meant well." Lily chose this time to lumber over to their group and loom over them.

"What happens if this doesn't wear off by tonight, Potter? Where are we all supposed to sleep?" She demanded.

"You can sleep in my bed!" he exclaimed. The reader should be aware that James actually thought this was a helpful thing to say. Let's blame the new hormones in his system and skip the part where James gets hit in the face again…

* * *

Somehow, during the break between Charms and Transfiguration, Sirius had convinced one of the girls to trade their skirt for his pants. He had then proceeded to lose several inches of fabric and he walked into class with a tight skirt that ended at mid-thigh. The top three buttons on his uniform shirt were undone, showing off his new and exciting...erm…assets.

There were a couple downsides to this wardrobe change. The first being that he got incredibly distracted every time he happened to glance down. This cut back significantly on his productivity as a human being. The other was that there was a very, very angry Scotsman standing at the front of the Transfiguration classroom who had no tolerance for tomfoolery.

"Sirius Orion Black," the Scotsman ground out. "What in the blazes do you think you're wearing?"

"Minnie!" Sirius exclaimed, seeming not to notice 'Minnie's' current mood. "You look positively ravishing today."

"And you, Mister Black, look like a harlot. 10 points from Gryffindor for uniform violations," the Professor said, waving her wand to return Black's outfit to school uniform parameters. Sirius pouted, but wisely kept his mouth shut.

It was clear that McGonagall was not going to let a silly little think like a penis to stop her from holding a perfectly normal class. The students suffered through a particularly arduous lesson on NEWT level transfigurations and were assigned one roll of parchment on the theory behind untransfiguration, due at their next class. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as the bell rang signaling lunch time.

Nobody so much as looked at the pumpkin juice at this meal. Word had traveled that it was the offending beverage and everyone avoided it as if they could spare themselves, even though it was too late. Dumbledore stood to make an announcement that they were no closer to finding a cure and at this point were just hoping it would wear off on its own. This approach really fostered a feeling of trust and good will toward the headmaster, as I'm sure you can imagine.

By third period, no one was in a particularly good mood. Even those who refused to eat or drink so they didn't have to use the facilities had endured several hours getting familiar with their new anatomy and the novelty had worn off. Only a handful were still enjoying the change, which included Sirius who was still parading around in his new skirt.

The boys had a free period, except for Peter who was still taking Divination at NEWT level, Merlin knows why. They were sprawled out over the common room like they owned the place. Remus was bent over a table diligently working on the essay that McGonagall had assigned them. He let out a subconscious huff of annoyance as his light brown hair kept falling into his face and ruining his concentration. James was laying on the couch in front of the fire in a _very_ unladylike manner with one leg thrown over the back of it.

"James, shut your legs!" Sirius admonished.

"I'm a feminist, Pads. Equal posture for all genders!" James rebelled. Sirius shook his head at the lost cause that was his best friend. He stood up from his spot on the ottoman and walked over to Remus and gathered up the werewolf's long hair, pulling it back out of his face and securing it with a whispered charm.

"There you go, doll. We can't have your hair distracting you from your studies, now can we?" he purred in Remus' ear causing his friend to blush slightly and mutter his thanks. Sirius had leaned over to help secure his hair, providing a _very_ nice view of his new curves. Remus' eyes practically popped out of his head at the scenery.

"Sirius, where did you get that?!" he asked in a strangled voice.

"Whatever are you talking about, dear Moony?" Sirius asked with a devious smile on his face. He hadn't moved from his place next to Remus, knowing exactly what he was doing to his friend.

"You- you're wearing a _bra_!" Remus hissed, unable to pull his eyes away from the offending scrap of black lace. This immediately attracted James' attention causing him to jump off the couch and come have a look. He reached out to move Sirius' shirt out of the way to see the new addition to his friend's wardrobe but Sirius smacked his hand away tsk-ing.

"You don't have to be so grabby, James. You could have just asked if you wanted to see," he said, slowly reaching for his own shirt buttons.

Unfortunately, Lily had chosen this precise second to enter the common room and she gave a disgusted grunt while rolling her eyes at James and muttering something about pigs. James ran over to her, desperately trying to explain the situation so she would understand his pervy behavior. He was so involved in pleading with the love of his life that he missed Remus' strangled moan as Sirius continued to de-robe. He also missed Remus pulling Sirius up to the boys' dorms by his red and yellow striped tie and the sound of their dormitory door slamming shut loudly.

* * *

By dinner, James had two black eyes and a broken nose, Peter had started menstruating, and Sirius and Remus couldn't keep their hands off each other any time their friends' backs were turned. Lily was sporting a full and magnificent beard and her friend Mary's voice kept cracking spectacularly. Tensions were so high that the House points system had to be put on hold because the points were dropping so swiftly.

Dumbledore approached his podium in a new set of magenta robes and cleared his throat to indicate that everyone should be quiet and pay attention to him. It is, of course, difficult to ignore an old bearded witch in bright pink robes, so the hall fell silent rather quickly.

"Good news, students! Today's social experiment has come to a conclusion. Professor Slughorn assures me that he has brewed an antidote to our affliction and delivered it to everyone's pumpkin juice for this evening's meal. Drink up!" This announcement was met by thunderous applause. After the first brave soul risked Slughorn's creation without any adverse effects, there was a mad rush to drink as much pumpkin juice as possible. By the end of the meal, every student had reverted to his or her original gender.

"Pete, you might be off the hook!" James exclaimed. "He called it a social experiment! Surely that means it has his approval. It was just a learning experiment!"

"Wait, _I_ might be off the hook? What about you two? You were the master minds behind the operation!" Peter exclaimed in outrage.

"It's really sweet that you think we would be smart enough to accomplish such a feat, but everyone heard you take credit this morning. It's okay, Peter, we'll do our best to protect you if they come for you!" James said, cackling.

Neither boy noticed that Sirius and Remus were very focused on not looking each other in the eye. In fact, Sirius had captured McKinnon in a serious conversation on the pros and cons of skirts as a wardrobe staple while Remus pulled out a textbook and was 'reading' furiously.

As Sirius' debate with Marlene grew more heated, he jumped up onto the bench to fully demonstrate the range of motion and adequate ventilation provided by his nice skirt. One stern glare from McGonagall was all it took for him to jump back down. His friends had finished eating and he threw an arm around James' and Peter's shoulders as they traipsed back to the common room to bask in their comedic genius and the thrill of getting away with the best prank of their Marauding careers.

* * *

 **A/N** : And there you have it! Please review to tell me what you think!


	2. 2: GW

**Chapter:** II

 **Word Count:** 910

 **Characters:** GW

 **A/N** : Here's another! Jo rules all, we all bow to Jo. 13 hour shift at work today mandates a pre-written one-shot be edited and spit out…

* * *

The entire wizarding world of England reeled in the aftermath of the war. You know that second your foot misses the last step on a flight of stairs? After you count your fingers and toes (and ears) to remind yourself that you're still alive, what then? Rebuilding was the obvious next step, but when do you find time to mourn for all that was lost?

The war left gaping holes in lives, families, and infrastructure. Everyone was affected by its ravaging effects, but perhaps none so much as George Weasley. He should have been grateful that his large family suffered only one great loss. He should have mourned his brother and then turned to pursue a long, full life in honor of his lost twin. However, life is not always as simple as a self-help brochure. Pain rarely feels like the detached, unfeeling 'therapeutic communication' of your clinical psychiatrist.

The first six months after Fred's death were the most devastating for George (at least by outward appearances). He locked himself in their flat in Diagon Alley, barely ate, rarely slept, and never spoke a word to anyone. He was a shadow of his former self. Pale, emaciated, and unsmiling, his own reflection would be unrecognizable had he dared glance in a mirror.

When he finally emerged from his hermitage, he still rarely ate or talked. He couldn't bring himself to go home to the Burrow. Every time he walked into the same room as his mum she would burst into tears. Other family members slipped up and referred to him in the plural. People on the street called him Fred. Witches and wizards were rebuilding their lives all around him, but nobody would let George move on.

Diagon Alley got a face-lift as people poured money into its revitalization. A baby boom occurred as people who once thought they had no future rushed to create one for the next generation. Anniversaries of the war were marked with balls and banquets, memorials and charities. Out of sight and out of mind, George slowly slipped from the sympathetic forefront of people's minds. Ronald took over the Diagon Alley branch of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes after a brief stint as an Auror. He also established and managed a new branch in Hogsmeade. Slowly, sympathy and sorrow for the oft forgotten sibling gave way to anger.

 _"_ _He was our brother too!"_ Ginny had screamed at him when George failed to appear at her wedding. Life was moving on all around George, but he couldn't seem to manage it himself. From April 1st 1978 until May 2nd 1998, Fred and George had been inseparable. They had never spent more than a few hours apart. Their schedules back in school had been as identical as they were, they shared a room their entire lives, first at the Burrow, then at Hogwarts, and later in the small flat above their shop. Their identities were intertwined. Molly used to joke that they were supposed to have been a single child, but they had accidentally been split in half in the womb.

That's what George felt too. They had been two sides of a coin, two halves of a person, but now half was gone. He was incomplete with a gaping wound running clear down the center of himself. Why couldn't the others see? While their wounds scarred over and healed, George was left to fester.

Perhaps he wasn't completely alone. No, it wasn't Fred's ghost or a memory keeping him company, and it wasn't Ogden's finest. It was the pain. The sick, hollow pain of losing a part of your soul. People who have never been depressed tell you it gets better with time, but you know the truth. Even on the "good days" the pain is still there haunting you with the knowledge that things will get worse again. You know how dark the depths of despair truly are, so every foot you pull yourself above that bottomless pit brings a fear of heights. A fear of falling. A constant, sucking chest wound to remind you that you can never be whole again.

It was this loss, this grief, this sorrow, this apathy that changed George's appearance the most. Not the scruffy facial hair riddled with silver at just twenty-seven years old. It wasn't the threadbare grey coat he wrapped thin frame inside. It was the eyes. If eyes were the windows to the soul, George's were windows to an abandoned lot, overgrown with weeds.

George had not glanced in a mirror in seven years. He didn't need to look to know he was utterly unrecognizable. He once passed his brother Bill on the street, looked straight at him and passed by without an ounce of recognition in his brothers' eyes. This experience made him confident enough to amble down the high street of Hogsmeade seven years to the day of Fred's departure. Wrapped up in a canvas jacket and his grief, he ambled without a destination in mind, feet taking him where they would.

The sounds of festivity rang out around him as people celebrated the worst day of his life. A memorial service was held on the castle grounds with the after party making its' way through the Hogsmeade Nostalgia Tour, 2005 edition. Despite several familiar faces in the crowd around him, he rested most assured that no one could possibly recognize him-

"George? Ohmigod, George, is that you?" Make that no one except Angelina Johnson.

* * *

 **A/N** : I had intended on taking this one further, but it had other ideas. Some stories don't get happy endings. Some stories don't get endings at all. This one just kind of tugged on my hair as if to say, let's leave it here. So. Don't blame me, blame the story elves. Review to let me know what you think or with suggestions for new stories.


	3. 3 HG,DM

**Chapter** : III

 **Word Count** : 1608

 **Characters** : HG, DM

* * *

Draco and Hermione had worked together in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for several years. The first few months were uncomfortable, filled with awkward silences and tense moments. Slowly, they had warmed up to each other and had become very close colleagues and friends. Ron and Hermione were even guests at Draco and Astoria's wedding (much to Ronald's and Narcissa's dismay). There was just one thing that Hermione couldn't stand about her work partner. He was absolute bollocks when it came to muggle technology.

He had never been forced to take Muggle Studies in school- the subject was laughable to the Malfoy family. Why would a wizard waste time learning about a supposedly inferior race? It was the same reason Draco had dropped Care of Magical Creatures as soon as possible…well, that and the incident with the hippogriff.

In his adult life, he was too busy creating a career for himself and trying to clear the family name. After Lucius passed away during his Azkaban sentence, Draco gained access to all the family vaults and, with Narcissa's help, he cut their fortune in half paying all the war reparations and donating to various charities. The Malfoy Manor was razed as Draco and Astoria bought a penthouse in London and Narcissa moved to the family's seaside cottage in France.

His aversion to muggle technology was now due to ignorance, not prejudice, but it existed all the same. Hermione was sick of explaining every muggle gadget to him. It was like Arthur Weasley all over again, except Draco wasn't fascinated, just vaguely curious as to why muggles needed so many devices.

Hermione was not one to pass up on an educational experience so one night after work she invited him to the home she shared with her husband and their child, Rose. It was a modest two story townhouse just on the edge of city and suburb. It was a muggle neighborhood, just the sort of place Draco imagined she would live. Adolescent trees lined the streets shading the kids playing on the sidewalk in the afternoon light.

Hermione led him up the front steps and turned a key in the lock to open the door which Draco ogled slightly. The extensive wards she had set up around the house recognized her magical signature and allowed them entrance. She dropped her keys on an entryway table and guided him into the library. It had floor to ceiling bookshelves around the entire room with a fireplace on one end, a desk on the other, and several comfortable chairs.

"Where's Weasel and Red?" he asked, making himself comfortable in one of the plush living chairs.

"Their names are Ronald and Rose," she chided lightly, "and they are at the burrow being Mollycoddled for the afternoon."

"Well, I'm not sure what you're expecting, Mrs. Granger-Weasley. I'm a happily married man," he said with a smirk.

"Don't be intentionally obtuse."

"Fine, I'll be accidentally obtuse. Why'd you invite me over?"

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, this is an intervention." She stated.

"A what?"

"An intervention. It's where someone who cares about you realizes you have a problem and wants to help fix it."

"I know what an intervention is! What makes you think I'm in need of one?" Draco asked. He jumped out of his chair and started pacing. "I know I'm sometimes a little cozy with the fire whiskey, but I don't drink that much! And the smoking- that was just a phase!"

"Sit down, Malfoy," she directed, gesturing at the chair he had vacated. Once he complied, she released a deep breath through pursed lips.

"This is an intervention for your complete ignorance of muggle technology."

"I'm not ignorant!" He exclaimed defensively. "That right there is a tellyphone!" He said, pointing at the landline on the desk.

"Telephone," she corrected. "What's the box next to it?"

"Err… macrowave?"

"Not even close. Draco, you have put aside your blood prejudice, for which I am extremely gracious. However, you have made no efforts to educate yourself about muggles, and prejudice stems from lack of understanding. So I am going to teach you about muggle 'contraptions' and you are going to let me."

"Aye-aye, Professor." Draco said, smirking again. She was entertaining when she acted like a school-matron.

"First things first, that box is a computer. It might be a little advanced for you right now so we'll come back to it later. Do you remember how the phone works?" Draco was offended at her insinuation that he couldn't operate a silly muggle device, but he decided to humor her.

"You pick it up and talk to people."

"Show me."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. Then he walked over to the phone and picked it up. He held it up to his ear like he had seen her do before. Hermione raised an eyebrow while she watched him. He turned his back to her so she couldn't see what he was doing, as he wasn't sure what to do next. He tried whispering Astoria's name into the phone, but that annoying buzzing was still coming out.

"That's not how you do it," she said in a sing-song voice laughing lightly. You can't just tell the phone who you want to call. Besides, unless Astoria has a telephone at home, you'd never be able to connect."

"Fine. I don't know how to use it, happy?"

"See the numbers on it? Look where I'm pointing!"

She talked him through dialing a number and tried very hard not to laugh at the look on his face when it started ringing. She failed the battle with composure when Ron answered on the other end. Draco jumped almost a foot in the air and nearly dropped the phone.

"Weasel is that you?" he shouted into the speaker.

"Oi! Not so loud, you git! And it's Weasley to you!" her husband replied before hanging up on him.

"How was that him? I thought you said he was at his parents'?"

"I convinced him to get a mobile," she explained, pulling out her own to show to him. It's like that phone, but you can use it anywhere."

"Why not just use a patronus?"

"It's not as quick, not everyone can produce a corporeal patronus, and you can't talk back and forth through them. It's only useful for a one-way message." She looked to him for a rebuttal but he only sniffed.

"Fine, but what about that whatsit-wave kitchen contraption? Why not just use a warming charm?"

"The microwave is named after the technology it uses. It sends microwaves through the food you want to heat up which excites the molecules making them move around and generate heat."

"Merlin's pants! I don't care about molecools or what excites them! I don't need the entire back story to know that a warming charm is quicker and more effective."

"The point isn't that everything muggle is better. It's to show you how muggles have compensated for not having magic! They aren't some lesser race to be pitied because of their genetic shortcomings!"

"I know that," he declared indigently, but he couldn't meet her eyes.

"Do you? Really? Follow me," she said, leading him to the kitchen. She handed him a bag of microwave popcorn.

"The instructions are all on the bag. Make it." She instructed. She tossed him the bag and leaned against the kitchen table as she watched him struggle. He read over everything several times before getting the cellophane wrapper off and placing it carefully inside the microwave. This time he didn't try to talk to it to get it to work but looked at the numbers and dials on the control panel. He tried fiddling with a couple before looking at her helplessly. She sighed and showed him which buttons to press.

She chuckled as he watched the bag spin around on the plate and listened to the kernels pop. They shared the bag while she proceeded to show him the toaster, blender, and television, before finally explaining the computer and internet.

"What do you mean you can access any information? Certainly not anything?"

"Near enough," she said.

"But how?"

"I thought you didn't want me to give you the whole back story?" she asked, smirking a little.

"Ha-ha," he said in a deadpan. "Fine. I may not need to know how it all works, but I will concede that I is probably beyond my comprehension."

"And?" she pressed.

"And muggles are really quite clever to have invented all these things. Maybe I'll get myself one of those mobiles so you can call me up whenever you'd like and tell me all about your superior knowledge," he joked. She chuckled at that. The front door opened to reveal Ron and Rose. The second of the two toddled into the room.

"Drakie!" she shouted. He swept her up into her arms.

"Well then, is the pureblood snot all enlightened at last?" Ron asked his wife as he greeted her with a kiss. She smiled.

"He's well on his way, I think. Says he might even buy a mobile!"

"Never give him my number," Ron said seriously. The object of their conversation was in the middle of tickling their daughter and turned to him.

"Like I would ever want to call you," he drawled. He handed the small girl over to Hermione and gave Ron a handshake. "I'd better get home, Astoria will think I've been at the pub with Blaise again. Thank you, Hermione, for the enlightening experience."

He turned on his heel and disapperated with a _pop_ , leaving the family to catch up with each other and talk about their days.

* * *

 **A/N** : Annnd fin. Hope y'all enjoyed. Review with thoughts and suggestions!


	4. 4: CW

**Chapter** : IV

 **Word Count** : 1144

 **Characters** : CW

* * *

Just a few miles down the road from the Romanian Dragon Preserve was a small village nestled in the Transylvanian Alps. Many of the dragon handlers often traveled to the village on nights off to take advantage of the small pubs and shops. Charlie Weasley was no exception, and Friday night after an especially tense day of work he found himself wandering down a quiet street taking in the sights.

His feet led him over the uneven cobblestones of the street. The shops were quaint in design, but many had neon lights burning in the windows. One such shop decreed 'TATUAJ' in an eerie purple light. On a whim, Charlie let his feet walk straight into the shop to take a look.

Muggle rock played loudly over speakers suspended from the ceiling. The walls were mostly black with posters and portraits of half-nekkid people displaying skin art and piercings. Charlie was so busy looking around that he didn't notice the girl emerge from the back of the shop. She cleared he throat loudly over the speaker and said something in Romanian.

"Er- do you speak English?"

"Ooh, a Brit, eh?" she said. Her hair was chopped short with one side shaved off. The original color was black, but she had added purple streaks throughout. The last person he'd seen with hair that color was on Tonks, but she was a metamorphagus. She glittered in the low light, and he realized it was due to the numerous piercings in her ears, brow, and nose. She was also a walking billboard for her own business with numerous tattoos peeking out from under a small black tank top and black jeans.

"Guilty as charged," he said. He blushed as he realized that he had been staring at her a little too long. She smirked at his blush.

"What can I do for you, Brit?"

"I was hoping to get a tattoo," he said, somewhat unsure. He was usually such a confident person, but she caught him off-guard.

"You're not lost then. Did you have something in particular in mind? Is this your first?"

"No- it's not my first I mean," he explained. He had always preferred muggle tattoos. There was something about the pain of the needles that he found much more satisfying than a magical tattoo. Besides, there wasn't a way to make magical ink permanent without using black magic, which he wasn't too keen on. To illustrate his point to her, he pulled his flannel shirt over his head to reveal his own artwork over pale, freckled skin.

She whistled as she looked him over, but he couldn't tell which she looked at longer, his muscles or his tattoos. He had a Chinese fireball circling down his right arm, a Norwegian Ridgeback on his ribs, and just peeking over the waist of his jeans was the crest of a Peruvian Vipertooth that trailed down his left thigh. He cursed his inherited complexion as a blush spread down to the Ridgeback under her appraisal.

"You've got a thing for dragons," she stated unnecessarily.

"Er, yeah. They're kind of my obsession," he said.

"So you want another dragon?" she asked.

"I want you to surprise me," he said. He hadn't been planning on it, but he found her intriguing and truly wanted to see what she would do given the blank canvas.

"Do you want me to sketch something for you first or just freehand it?" she asked.

"Freehand, if you think you can handle it," he challenged her. Her eyes sparked and she led him back to one of the rooms.

"I think I probably can. Your back looks like it could use some love, you game?" she asked.

"Works for me," Charlie replied, some of his bravado back.

He climbed onto the chair on his stomach while she got her supplies ready. They made some idle chitchat as he explained that he was there working on an environmental research project, which was the cover story they were instructed to tell the locals if asked.

"A researcher, huh? You don't really strike me as an egg-head," she said, poking at the burn scar on one of his shoulder blades.

"And you don't strike me as a Romanian tattoo artist," he replied looking over his shoulder at her. She fired up the machine and he heard the tell-tale buzzing right before he felt the familiar burn of the needle as she started marking his skin.

"That's because I'm not!" she said.

"Oh, she tells me this after she's got a needle to my back!" he joked.

"No, stupid. I'm a tattoo artist, but I'm not from Romania. My dad was American and my mom was from this village. She taught me to speak Romanian growing up, but she died when I was seven. Moving back here was my way of 'getting back to my roots.'"

"You don't sound American," he said, wincing as she came to a sensitive spot near his ribs.

"That's because I learned English from my ma, too, and she had the strongest Romani accent I've ever heard," she explained.

They talked a bit more as she worked for several hours without a break for either of them. By the time she turned the needle off it was almost midnight.

"All right, ready to see it?"

"I'd rather leave it a surprise until I get home,"

"What if you hate it?"

"I doubt I will, I trust you," he said smiling.

"You're a strange man, Brit."

"It's been said. Will I see you around town?" he asked, trying not to sound too desperate to see this strange muggle girl again.

"Maybe," she said, but there was something in her eyes that said otherwise. This would be the last time they saw each other. He paid her and left a ridiculously large tip before returning to his small dorm room in the cabin they all shared at the preserve. He lifted his shirt over his head, grimacing at the welcome and familiar burn of abused skin.

He angled his back toward the mirror and stared in shock at what lay there. He could have sworn that girl was a muggle, but there was no way she could have replicated a Romanian Longhorn so perfectly by luck. Of all the ways she could have chosen to portray a dragon, how did she chose this one? The very dragon for which the Preserve was originally started to protect. No one could have captured the golden horns or dark green scales of the breed so perfectly unless they had seen one with their own eyes.

Charlie didn't know how it was possible, but he knew without a doubt that the muggle girl had seen one of the dragons in person. He also knew, without a doubt, he would never meet such a captivating woman again in his life.

* * *

 **A/N** : And there it is! Review, let me know what you think! Thanks in advance.


	5. 5: RW

**Chapter** : V

 **Word Count** : 1460

 **Characters** : RW

* * *

Ron looked down at the crumpled-up parchment in his hand. On the parchment was an address scribbled his own nearly unintelligible handwriting. He peered up at the cheerful yellow storefront. The address matched the one on his paper. He pushed the door open and a tinkling bell announced his arrival to the store. The cool air conditioning was a relief from the sweltering Australian heat.

There was a young girl sitting at the desk in the waiting area. She had curly, light brown hair and dark eyes. The sight of the girl caused a pang to echo in Ron's heart. The girl could have been a body double for Hermione aside from her round face and perky nose.

"Hello, sir. Do you have an appointment?" she asked. Even her voice was reminiscent of Hermione, making Ron miss his girlfriend.

"Er…no. I didn't know that I was supposed to," he muttered. He was really starting to regret this whole idea. He was way out of his element.

"Of course you do, silly! You can't just walk in to the dentist! This isn't a nail salon." She admonished.

"I know that!" He said defensively. "I thought I'd see if there was an opening."

"Let me just check our system. But I wouldn't get your hopes up," she said tapping away at her desk. _Keyboard_ , he thought. That's what Hermione had called it. "You're in luck!" she exclaimed a couple seconds later. "We had a last-minute cancellation for the last block, I bet we can squeeze you in! Will that be a cleaning, exam, or a treatment?" she asked.

"Er, just the exam," he chose randomly, picking the one that sounded least invasive.

"Alrighty then! Have a seat and I'll let you know when we're ready for you," she instructed.

Ron wandered over to the seats and chose one under the A/C vent. The plastic of the chair squeaked loudly as he sat and he wondered if he looked as awkward as he felt. He could tell the tips of his ears were turning a bright, Gryffindor scarlet. Eager for an escape, he glanced around for a distraction and found one in the years-old magazines on the table next to him.

He found one about food that looked safe enough and he was just salivating over page 17 when the receptionist cleared her throat.

"Sir, this hygienist will lead you to the exam room," she instructed, indicating a man who still had acne dressed up in light blue pajamas. Acne-Jammies stood mutely in the doorway until Ronald stood up and then he mutely led the way to the exam room.

The exam room was not aptly named, to Ron's way of thinking. It would be better called the Chamber of Torture. There was a single, odd-shaped chair in the middle of the room surrounded by several stools. Creepy metal devices were stacked on every horizontal surface except the floor.

Acne-Jammies gestured at the chair in the middle of the room before walking out. Ron took this to mean that he was supposed to sit in the torture chair. It was thoughtfully covered in plastic to make for easy cleanup between victims.

He perched himself on the edge of the seat and nervously waited again. This time he didn't have to wait long before a thin, middle aged woman walked in. She was wearing a white coat embroidered with the name "Monica Welkins, DDS."

"Hello! I'm Doctor Welkins, I'll be taking a quick look at your teeth this afternoon," she greeted warmly. Ron felt himself relax by degrees at her familiarity. She had him lay back and slowly tilted and lowered the chair into a position that he assumed was to make it harder for the victims to escape.

"You've never been with us before?" She asked. He shook his head no, eyeing her as she donned rubber gloves. "What brings you in today? Any problem teeth you need looked at?" Another head shake from the ginger man. "Any sensitivity to heat? Cold? Sweets?" No, no, and no. "Well then, let's begin!" she exclaimed cheerily.

Dr. Welkins alternated between prodding his gums and raking her metal stick across his teeth in a rather unsettling manner. He couldn't believe Hermione had this done every year! It's not like she still needed to get her teeth examined. As magical folk, they couldn't suffer from the same afflictions of the mouth that muggles developed-

"Oops! Found one!"

"'At?" He asked, startled.

"Looks like we've got a cavity. Just a little one on the proximal surface of your right third molar. We can fill it for you now if you'd like," she explained. Ron felt frantic. How could he possibly have acquired this _cavity_? He found himself nodding to her question, unsure of what she meant by 'fill'. He was starting to wish he paid more attention to Hermione when she talked about her parents…

"Excellent! Our hygienist has just gone home, let me just go get my husband to assist me," she said with a smile. Ron barely had time to panic at this new development before Dr. Welkins returned to the room with another Dr. Welkins in tow.

"Wendell Welkins, at your service," he introduced with a hearty handshake.

"Ron Weasley," he replied. If the man recognized his name, he showed no signs at all.

"Well let's get started!" Wendell exclaimed. He was just as warm as his wife. Unfortunately, Ron was too anxious to be comforted by their welcoming demeanors. Wendell tilted the chair even further back until Ron was sure his head would be touching the floor. Was this so all his blood ran to his head and discombobulated him? "Open up," Wendell instructed, cheerily.

Before Ron could say 'Quaffle' he found more instruments in his mouth than he thought was physically possible. There was a nozzle that sprayed water and another seemed to be a demon straw to suction his brains out through his oral cavity. Still another buzzed and whined loudly as Wendell began to do whatever he was doing in Ron's mouth. He felt the vibrations traveling through his very skull and down his spine. To top things off, there was a light as bright as the sun glaring down directly into his eyes.

"Well Ron, what do you do for a living?" Monica asked, handing another torture implement to her husband.

"I uh ussusun," (I'm a businessman)

"Oh really? How do you like that?" Wendell asked.

"S'guh. I ur ih ah uhur" (It's good. I work with my brother.)

"That's fascinating. What brings you to Australia?"

"I ahe hoo ee oo" (I came to meet you.)

"And how are you liking that?"

"'s a lil ary urrehy. Uh ah oo ooin?" (It's a little scary, currently. What are you doing?)

"Lovely. We came over just a few years ago, ourselves. We've always loved it here, so one day we just packed up everything we owned and moved down here," Monica explained.

"uh huh..." (Uh-huh.)

"Any plans while you're here?" Wendell asked. "Other than having your teeth examined, that is."

"Ah as onuh as oo ih ah ooh ary or ahher" (I was going to ask you if I could marry your daughter.)

"Well, you've just got to see the Opera House while you're in Sydney! It's what we call a must-see for the tourists!"

(The next bit of sounds that Ron uttered were far too complicated to be transcribed here, so I'll just translate instead. He attempted to say: You don't know you have a daughter, but she's the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. I'm going to ask her to be my wife when I floo back to London tomorrow.)

"Mmm…" Monica agreed.

"Well! Looks like we're all done here!" Wendell announced. "What do you think, dear?" he asked his wife.

"Excellent work as always, love," she replied, peering into the redhead's mouth. The chair was slowly tilted back to a somewhat more reasonable angle and Ron was allowed to escape the torture chair relatively unscathed.

"You're all finished! Kathy will ring you up out front," Monica explained.

"Enjoy the sights while you're here, and don't forget to brush and floss those chompers!" Wendell added.

Ron thanked them both before scurrying to the front. As he scrambled in his pocket for the strange plastic card Hermione had given him, the Welkins watched from the back office.

"Does he seem familiar to you?" Wendell asked his wife, scratching his balding head.

"Yeah… isn't he that actor from that one reality show?" Monica asked.

"Hm…maybe that's it… I just know I've seen him somewhere."

* * *

 **A/N:** So, there's the bonus chapter…it's kind of a silly chapter, but I always thought that if Hermione hadn't returned her parents' memories Ron would be prone to do something romantic like this… and I don't even ship RW/HG!


	6. 6: SB, RL, PP, JP

**Chapter** : VI

 **Word Count** : 517

 **Characters** : RL, SB, JP, PP

* * *

 _1 September 1971_

Students poured out of the Hogwarts Express the second the doors opened at Hogsmeade Station. Lost in the sea of cloaks, first years struggled with their luggage as they made their way down to the boats. There was a nervous excitement in the air, which proved contagious as Hogwarts' newest students drew nearer to the inky water of the Black Lake.

One of these students was slightly tall for his age, but as his Aunt would say, 'thin as a reed.' He was pale. Not the pale of someone who spends too much time reading indoors (which he had), but the pale of someone who has spent more than their fair share of days in a sickbed. Black circles underlined his pale green eyes as they gazed up at the moon. _Four days until full_. He knew this automatically, instinctively.

The students ahead of this boy were piling into the small boats raucously, causing them to dip and lean in the water. He tried to navigate carefully to avoid getting wet. His robes were secondhand and threadbare, and once wet they would do little to block the autumn chill of the Scottish Highlands. The seats were quickly filling, so he made a bid for a boat with several other boys already seated. The other occupants of the boats were whispering amongst themselves and seemingly failed to notice the newest occupant of their small watercraft. The one sitting in the middle, with shoulder-length black hair happened to glance over at the new arrival. His silver-grey eyes pierced into the taller boy's green ones.

Silver Eyes made a move to come greet him, but in his rush nearly capsized the vessel. The four boys would have been far less nervous had they known that Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore himself had charmed the boats to be unsinkable. Once Silver Eyes was certain he wouldn't be pitched into the Black Lake, he thrust out a hand.

"My name is Sirius Black,"

"Are you serious?"

"Very Sirius." The first boy stated gravely. Realizing the pun, the boy grinned slightly and raised his own hand.

"Remus Lupin," he said.

"These are my mates James Potter and Peter Pettigrew," Sirius said gesturing at the brunette and blond seated behind him respectively. "We just met on the train."

Remus nodded in greeting to the both of them.

"What house do you think you'll be sorted into?" James asked.

"I'm not sure. I'll probably get Ravenclaw, you?"

"Gryffindor all the way. My dad was in Gryffindor and there's no better house for me," he stated proudly. Pettigrew was nodding absently in agreement.

"Well your family doesn't always dictate what house you have to be in," Sirius declared loudly, and a bit defensively, Remus thought. "I'm asking for Gryffindor, you should too," he said to Remus, "then we can all be in the same house together,"

Peter guffawed, "You can't _ask_ for whatever house you want!"

"Says who?" Sirius replied coolly. Peter shrugged but was saved from responding as the boats lurched into motion and carried the boys toward their home for the next seven years.

* * *

 **A/N** : Let me know what you think!


	7. 7: SB,RL

**Chapter:** VII

 **Word Count:** 1681

 **Characters:** SB/RL

 **A/N** : Hey y'all, here's some smut for Valentine's Day. Rated M slash: don't like it, don't read it!

* * *

It had been a perfectly normal Sunday afternoon, the day the world changed. There had been a full moon last night and Remus Lupin and Sirius Black were both laid out in infirmary beds. The school Healer bustled around outside of their curtain partitions, tending to minor aches and pains of children trying to get out of class the following day. Consciousness came to Sirius suddenly and he looked around the room, meeting a pair of golden-green eyes. Remus was already awake and sitting calmly in bed staring at his friend.

"What time is it?" Sirius muttered groggily. He tried to sit up, but hissed as it disrupted the healing wounds on his ribs.

"Just after 1400," Remus replied. Sirius almost missed the flash of guilt in his friend's eyes before it was replaced with the unperturbed façade. He chose to ignore the emotion there for the time being. Sirius was notoriously, and pun-ily bad at _serious_ conversations.

"Don't they have anything to eat in this joint, I'm _starved_ ," he complained to preemptively halt any attempt at an apology. Remus was not just a pretty face and he was not fooled by Sirius one bit.

"Sirius, I'm sorry," he started. Sirius opened his mouth to say something, but the werewolf barked, "No! Let me finish! You shouldn't even have been out there last night, you know it's always worse on a blue moon. It's not safe for you and I don't know what I'd do if I _really_ hurt you." By the time he finished this declaration his pale cheeks were stained slightly pink.

"Oh, do you call this a _pretend_ injury then?" Sirius asked jokingly.

"I'm serious."

"No, I'm Sirius." This tired, old joke was met by a hard stare so Sirius conceded. "Fine, fine, no more taunting Moony on the full moon. He just makes it so easy. He's the bad influence you know," Sirius stated matter-of-factly.

"He's drawn to you," Remus mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Moony. He…likes you. It's harder to control him when you're around." If his face had been pink before, it now matched the color of the Hogwarts Express.

"Control him from doing what exactly?" Sirius asked with an eyebrow raised. Remus was saved from answering as James and Peter barged in bearing missed homework assignments and snacks from the kitchens.

* * *

Later that evening, after dinner, the healer released the two boys with a warning to take it easy to avoid reopening any wounds. She wrote them a hall pass since curfew was approaching and instructed them to head straight to their common room with no dilly-dallying.

Their footsteps echoed in the silent hallways as the moonlight filtered through the windows.

"Do you ever wish you could see what the moon looks like completely full?" Sirius asked, breaking the companionable silence. "I mean without transforming?"

"You have no idea," Remus said wistfully. His honesty caught them both off-guard. They usually joked around more and only had real heart-to-heart conversations with the other marauders around.

"There's new potions and spells invented every day. Maybe we're just a couple days aware from a cure for werewolfism," he said optimistically.

"Lycanthropy," Remus corrected drily. "And I don't really want to get my hopes up. I owe you guys a lot, though! If you hadn't become animagi last year, I'd still be transforming alone." He gave Sirius a weak smile.

"I-…we'd do anything for you, Remus," he answered. On a whim, he grabbed his friend's hand. He immediately realized this was slightly odd, but he didn't want Remus to think that he regretted it, so he didn't let go.

Luckily for Remus, it was too dark in the hall for his friend to see the blush that spread like wildfire across his face. It only happened when Sirius was around, and especially when they touched. The accidental brushing of hands as he passed the pumpkin juice at dinner, giving him a hand up when he fell on his ass, brushing by too close when trying to get through a doorway around him, it always sent a spark through Remus straight to his core. He had noticed it happening more and more since last year when he realized the form of Sirius' animagus. Moony took one look at the shaggy black dog on the first full moon they spent together and stated to Remus, _Mate_. Obviously, Remus couldn't act on these feelings. For one, Sirius was well known around the school for his trysts with various members of the _opposite_ sex. Secondly, he couldn't very well walk up to one of his best friends of six years and say 'hey, you're hot and my monster-half thinks you're my mate, let's shag.'

"This is ground control to Major Lupin, come in Major Lupin," Sirius joked. Remus smiled faintly. "Thought I'd lost you there for a minute, where'd you go?"

"I was right here," he replied.

"Don't play stupid, you've never done that well."

"You'd know, wouldn't you?" Remus joked back. Sirius stopped walking and pulled himself up to his full almost six feet.

"I'll have you know that I have perfected my stupid act. It lulls people into a false sense of security around me," he explained. "But don't sell yourself short, Moony. You play stupid far better than you think."

"What do you mean?" they had both stopped now and were facing each other in a patch of darkness between windows.

"Come on, all the covert looks, accidental touches. You think I don't know?"

"What are you talking about?" Remus' blood turned to ice in his veins before unfreezing and rushing loudly past his ears. He had to strain to catch his friends next words over his own pulse in his head.

"Don't tell me you really _are_ that oblivious? It wasn't just an act? And here I was thinking you were just a tease…" Sirius trailed off. Remus' thoughts were racing a mile a minute and there was a gear in his head that just wouldn't catch. Intelligent human speech was _just_ out of reach for him, so he settled for unintelligence.

"But- you like girls?" he said quietly and rushed. Sirius barked out laughter making him feel even worse. Was he doing this just to ridicule his friend? Sirius had found out about his disgusting crush and was going to hold it over his head? Sirius had never seemed so cruel in his life.

"You don't really believe all the rumors? For Merlin's sake, we've shared a dorm room for five years and change!"

"And you've snuck out countless times and the next morning there's some new tidbit of gossip about your love life!" Remus shouted, hurt.

Sirius was speechless. This wasn't how this conversation went when he rehearsed it in his mind. Out of other options he placed both hands on his friends face and drew it down to his level to silence him. It was a quick, chaste kiss, but it left them both panting, eyes dilated in the dark. Remus still looked like a fish out of water, but he hadn't pushed Sirius away so he went back in for another kiss. This was less gentle, his lips needy against his friend's. Remus stood stock-still for a moment before returning the gesture, hands working their way up into Sirius's hair, pulling gently. This earned him a groan from Sirius, which sent him into overdrive. He acted on pure instinct, with the full moon so recent, Moony lurked close to the surface in the back of his mind.

He whirled the pair around, knocking Sirius into the wall roughly. Sirius gasped at the change of events and as the impact stole his breath. Remus took advantage of his open mouth, invading it greedily with his tongue. He lay rough, sloppy kisses down Sirius's jawline and onto his neck near his pulse point. Sirius instinctively rolled his head to the side to allow him access and Moony reared up at the submissive gesture. _Mine_. Remus got the overwhelming urge to mark Sirius as his, but pulled away roughly instead. They were both panting for breath and coated in a light sheen of sweat despite the coolness of their surroundings.

Remus started to pull away, but Sirius wound his arms around him and pulled him back down for a sweet kiss. It quickly grew hungry again and Sirius reversed their positions so that Remus had his back pressed into the stone wall. Sirius worked his way down his neck to the clavicle, causing Remus to slam his head back against the wall with a moan and instinctively arch his back. This brought their hips together and both moaned in unison at the hardness waiting there.

Whatever restraint either boy started with snapped completely. They couldn't get close enough, couldn't kiss fast enough. Sirius worked his hands down the front of Remus' trousers and coaxed him out before undoing his own. Their lips never separated as he took both their lengths in one hand and stroked. One pull was enough to set them moaning wantonly and the sensation. It ended up being an embarrassingly short time for both boys. The hall echoed with sounds of moans and Sirius dragging his fist across their members at a punishing rate. Remus jerked Sirius' head up from where he was worshipping the skin under Remus' jaw. He growled as Sirius gave a particularly sharp thrust of his wrist sending Remus over the edge staring into his wolfish, yellow eyes with himself right behind. Sirius collapsed against his taller friend and both stayed like that panting.

Slowly as heartbeats and breathing slowed they separated. Remus muttered a _scourgify_ to clean them off. Neither said a thing, and the hall was silent once again. Sirius started chuckling a little and Remus joined in nervously. Both boys started walking back to the common room once more with the occasional giggle.

"James and Peter-"Remus started.

"Never need to know," Sirius replied lightly, smiling at Remus. He captured his friend's hand once more and they walked back to the common room hand in hand grinning like idiots.

* * *

 **A/N** : Eek! First published naughty scene. Sirius just refused to let me leave it at the snogging. Be as harsh as you want, don't hold back! I'll be hiding under my desk until next time. Review and share any suggestions for future chapters!


	8. 8: HG, DM

**Chapter** : VIII

 **Word Count** : 1421

 **Characters** : HG, DM

* * *

Hermione stared down at her trunk at the foot of her bed. There, beneath all her uniforms, spare quills, and books was an old, yellow piece of parchment. She eyed the parchment with a look of consternation in the pale moonlight seeping through the window of the seventh year dormitory. Her brows furrowed with the internal debate of whether or not to pick it up.

The dorm room was filled with the sounds of snoring girls. It had been magically expanded to accommodate the students who had returned for their eighth year, but quarters were still very cramped. That was one of the very reasons that Hermione was contemplating using the parchment that she hadn't touched since coming to Hogwarts. She needed some modicum of privacy and space from her fellow students.

After spending the last year in a tent with only Harry and Ron, she was still not accustomed to the hordes of children living at Hogwarts. While she wanted to complete her education, she hadn't anticipated how difficult it would be to readjust to normal wizarding life while doing it.

With a quiet huff she plunged her hand into the trunk and pulled out the paper. After checking to make sure her roommates were fast asleep she tapped it with her wand and whispered "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Harry and Ronald would be shocked to see her now, sneaking out after hours with the Marauders Map. Harry wouldn't even miss the old map with the excitement of starting Auror training and he would have no use for it anyway outside of the school's walls. Hermione was certain he would understand why she nicked it if he ever noticed.

Hermione eyed the map as black ink flowed out from her wand to draw the lines of the castle and its inhabitants. She cast a quick glance at it to ensure the way was clear. She had obtained a copy of the prefect patrols and knew that they would be done patrolling the upper floors by now. Sure enough her way looked entirely clear. She muttered "Mischief Managed" and stuffed the map into her robes just in case. To be cautious, she cast a disillusionment charm on herself in case anyone wandered across her path.

With that, she snuck down the stairs toward the common room and out the portrait hole. The castle was dark and silent so late at night. Part of Hermione yearned to take advantage of an empty library and get some quality studying in, but she already had a destination in mind and wouldn't be dissuaded.

She crept from shadow to shadow, not fully trusting the disillusionment charm to keep her hidden. The stairs to the astronomy tower loomed ahead, and Hermione was grateful that she had kept in shape over the summer. She took the stairs two at a time at first, before slowing to a steady trudge up and up.

Finally at the top, just barely breathing hard, she gently pushed the door open. It didn't creak on its hinges and she was glad to see that the map was right and the tower seemed empty. She walked right out to the edge of the tower, and sat down with her legs dangling over the edge and her arms folded up on the lowest rung of the safety rail. She lowered her head to her crossed arms and breathed a deep breath of sweet peace and alone-ness.

"Are you going to jump?" a voice sounded to her right. Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin and off the tower. Her grasp on the rails tightened while she simultaneously whipped her head around to see the speaker.

Draco Malfoy was sitting in all his pale glory at the edge of the tower in the shadows where he couldn't be seen from the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. He just stared at her from where his blond head was resting against the wall.

"I could ask you the same. Unless you wimped out, it looks like you're not here to jump."

"Of course not! I just come up here to think sometimes and to…get away."

"Get away? From what?" Draco asked incredulously.

"All...that," Hermione articulated poorly. She gestured vaguely at the school behind them.

"You mean you don't like being a glorified _war hero_?" he drawled. She just glared at him and didn't dignify him with a response immediately.

"I hate it. I just want to go to my classes and study so I can pass NEWTs and move on," she complained softly. Malfoy surprised her by letting out a short bark of laughter.

"Did you think for a _second_ that that's how it was going to happen? That no one would care? They've been creaming their pants about Harry Fucking Potter for the last seven years. You sealed your fate when you attached yourself to him," he stated. Hermione's mouth twisted in disgust at his phrasing but she bit back a retort.

"You're probably right," she said after a second, letting out a long breath. "I just want to be alone."

"Well, I'm not leaving, so if its solitude you want, get it somewhere else," Draco spit back. She sighed as they fell into their usual roles of hostility.

"I didn't mean that. I didn't come up all those stairs for nothing," she decided. She settled her head back on her crossed arms again. She stared up at the stars peeking through the cloud-ridden sky and enjoyed the night air across her skin. The moment had been ruined, though. She turned to scrutinize her company.

"Why did you come up here?" she asked.

"That didn't last long."

"What?"

"You said you wanted silence. I knew it wouldn't last," he taunted.

"Don't change the subject. Why are you up here? I wouldn't expect to see you…here…"

"Why? Because this is where I almost killed Dumbledore?" he asked. She was stunned to silence by his frankness. "This is where everything went to shit. Before that night I could pretend it was happening to someone else. That Riddle was living in someone else's house. After that night, the nightmares started. I was accountable for all the fucked up shit I had been doing. That was the night I realized that I threw my life away for a maniac. I'm surprised you didn't run the second you saw me up here."

"Why should I run? Harry vouched for you, that's enough for me," she said simply.

"Ah yes, Saint Potter," Malfoy said with derision. "Where was Precious Potter when my Aunt was torturing you?"

"Trying to get out of your dungeon to come help me!" She shouted back.

"And where was I?" he asked her in the same tone of voice. She bit back her reply just in time.

"No," she said instead. "I won't give you the sick satisfaction of an accusation. You couldn't have done anything that night in your drawing room. I don't know why you're baiting me to say otherwise," she forced herself to be calm.

"Because I deserve it! I just want to hear the truth! Tell me you hate me! Tell me that it's my fault your arm will never look the same again!" he raged, standing quickly. He began to pace, breathing heavily.

"I won't. It's not true. You're Aunt B-Bellatrix is the bitch who tortured me. Whatever your part was in the war, I will not hold it against you Draco Malfoy. I forgive you." Draco flinched visibly at this. He shot her a dark look before turning on his heel and racing down the stairs.

Hermione didn't try to follow him. She had said more than enough to him tonight. She just hoped he would take some of it to heart and not just brush her off. She pulled the map out and watched him head back to his common room. She then glanced at the moon's position and decided she should probably do the same if she wanted any sleep at all tonight.

She took one last glance around the tower before departing. So much pain stemmed from the events that had happened here in her sixth year. It only seemed right that it would be the place where healing war-wounds began.

* * *

 **A/N:** And that's all for now. Super huge shout out to RawMaterial for her reviews and PMs and all-around awesome encouragement. If you haven't read anything by her, I strongly suggest you head her way to read 'Mischief', because it is a work of true genius. KSB.


	9. 9: SF

**Chapter** : IX

 **Word Count** : 265

 **Characters** : SF

* * *

 _Job Drought After Wizarding Wars_

A handful of hopeful applicants shuffle in, single file. They filter into a dark room and each select a slightly rickety folding chair. The chairs all face a monitor, lit up by a projector running old film. Once all applicants are seated, the lights are extinguished and the film rolls.

"Druther's Demolitions: Is your high rise unstable? Does your sky scraper violate building codes? Have you decided you just don't like your house? Here at Druther's we provide our demolition talents to magical and non-magical clients for a variety of purposes. With our _secret_ patented spells, we are able to level any manmade structure in mere minutes, at no risk to casual bystanders! Did you really think buildings just peacefully implode when rigged with muggle explosives? Don't be ridiculous! It was Druther's!

If you enjoy the deconstruction of manmade objects, Druther's is the company for you! If you have a knack for explosives or combustion, you're the wizard for Druther's! Because given your druthers, you always pick Druther's!

Applicants should be proficient in basic spell work and must have an OWL in Charms and Transfiguration. They should also be able to comfortably converse with muggles, as we contract for many muggle businesses."

The film runs out and the screen goes blank. The applicants are instructed to wait to be called one by one for an interview with their potential supervisor. A small, meek woman arrives at the door toting a worn clipboard. She reads the first name.

"Finnegan, Seamus."

"Aye, that's me! Reckon I'm a shoe in for this gig!"

* * *

 **A/N** : I almost cut this one during my edits, but decided to leave it in last minute. I do realize that it's a weaker chapter. Feel free to let me know what you think, thanks! Anyway, that's it folks! Hope you enjoyed the fic as a whole. Keep an eye out for some of the longer fics that I'm working on and hope to post soon! Also, feel free to check out my Beta profile.


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